


Censer

by viceindustrious



Category: Sherlock Holmes (2009)
Genre: Advent Challenge 2010, M/M
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2011-06-20
Updated: 2011-06-20
Packaged: 2017-10-20 14:31:01
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 353
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/213765
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/viceindustrious/pseuds/viceindustrious
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Bathing rituals.</p>
            </blockquote>





	Censer

**Author's Note:**

> Written for day thirteen of the adventchallenge. Prompt: Frankincense.

Coward has the preparation of his body down to a fine art.

Sticks of incense smoulder on the dressing table in tiny clusters of light, their ends glow like dying stars. The bathtub is huge, gleaming and immaculate. The bathtub is an altar of brass where steam rises like breath or smoke or as if some hot, still twitching body has been split open in the cold air.

He is thorough and fast and practised in every act. His hands move by rote over his skin now, but he does not forget why he does this. It may appear methodical, but it is a religious sort of ecstasy that allows him to step out of his body and preen it to perfection.

Anointing himself with oil, he will strip his flesh smooth with a straight razor. Unsatisfied until his body is as hairless as the cattle horn handle of the razor itself, there is barely an inch of him that does not feel the kiss of the blade. He will be a dazzling utensil for his master.

The tips of his fingers massage his scalp, a pumice stone for his feet, a small silver pair of scissors to trim his nails. The bathwater is warm and perfumed and his hands are soft from a life of luxury, but although his life yet remains one of pleasure, it is no longer his own. He does not take any longer than necessary in the water, closes his mind to the indulgence of his own touch and sets to polishing himself pristine.

He paints the lines of his eyes with charred frankincense and that and his collar are the only adornments he is required to wear as he kneels by the foot of the bed.

"You may leave, Coward," Blackwood says when he returns that night.

There is a girl with him. He does not look at Coward as he gives the dismissal.

Coward bows his head, although Blackwood's eyes are still not on him, are on the girl as she sighs in his arms. As he kisses her.

Tomorrow, Coward will begin the ritual over.


End file.
